Scavenger Hunt!

If only I had the money to afford this guy:

Apartment Has Scavenger Hunt Built Into It

Have I ever mentioned my fascination with puzzles? Puzzles of all kinds? Jigsaw puzzle, word puzzles, cryptograms, jumbles, word searches, crosswords, even the "newer" sudoku; they all entice me to no end. I've been told by my parents that I have always been this way, from when I was 4, sitting in my mother's lap while she worked on the family vacation puzzle and I reached out and snapped a piece in place. Or maybe even from when I was 3 and snipped off the hair at the end of all my cats' tails because "it just looked cleaner that way" (or maybe that was just my "scissor phase"...) I have always loved organization, putting things in the correct order, always being able to find things, knowing exactly what the answer and facts are to any question asked. Though, on the other hand, my mother once quipped that "someone wouldn't be able to tell my strong organizational skills by the state of [my] bedroom in high school...". It's almost as if I'm more in need of my mind to be extremely, systematically organized (not the world) and only then can I be content with everything around me being in disarray and chaos. Words, numbers, shapes... I feel like these things exist more in my mind that the real world. I get a great sense of accomplishment every time I correctly think of a word in a crossword, or get such a sense of relief when two puzzle pieces slide perfectly together. Each one of these achievements makes me want to go on to the next and the next, always trying to finish just one more puzzle.

Now if only I could clean that room...

I'm so sorry, blog! (re: Semi-Precious Weapons, Beirut and Running)

Oh blog, how I have mistreated thee...

There has just been so much going on, I haven't had the chance to update you lately!

I finished my Half-Marathon in 2hr and 25min (not bad at all, I feel, considering it's a personal best in all areas!), and my friends and I are going to start training for the Philly Half that's happening in November. Very exciting, all this running. Now, if only it would stop raining so I could run outside again...

A sudden change of plans Saturday night lead me to a very grungy club on the west side of Manhattan called Don Hill's (a place I had actually been to once before on a random night sophomore year when we felt like dancing...), and to a 6-ft transvestite singer who proceeded to rock my world. The group is called Semi-Precious Weapons, and I'm an official fan. Crass, obtrusive, and a complete bitch, Justin Tranter (Just Tranter, as my good friend Nina nicknamed him) took over the presence of this dingy, dank cave of a venue, and got everyone up on their feet and swearing out loud with him. The oddest/most wonderful thing about the whole performance was the audience, which ranged from preppy boys and nerdy girls, to half-dressed emo chicks and skinny hipster boys; a veritable cornucopia of the youth in NYC. They were all freaking out, and I couldn't help but join in. I'd like to thank my friend Dan for this one, who kept saying SPW were like a cross between early Nirvana and a more modern indie group that slips the mind at the moment (sorry!). All in all, a satisfying night, especially that grandma style pizza at Ben's at 3am (mmmm...)

I wanted to end with a link to La Blogotheque's page on Beirut, whom I love to death. How such a powerful voice can come from such a skinny boy, I will never know. If you haven't seen these videos, your life is not complete yet. So wonderfully creative, fulfilling and stirring, you'll want to go out and do something insanely epic right afterwards. Unfortunately, it looks like from their website that the group has come to an exhaustive point in trying to "be all/do all" creatively and are taking a break for awhile. I'm kicking myself now for not seeing that they were playing a show this past Saturday in Williamsburg.

Wait, Saturday? So, I would have then missed Semi-Precious Weapons... Very interesting how life works.

:: Hoping to post again before June... ::

Dear Mariah [aka: Mimi (if you insist)]

About a week ago, I had a sudden yearning to listen to some old school Mariah Carey. Now, for me, Mariah (non Mimi) holds a very special place in my heart. Her self-titled album was the first CD I ever owned and I literally wore the thing out. The same thing happened with Music Box and Daydream, both of which I remember getting in the good-old-day fashion of driving to the local CD store (Sam Goody in New Jersey) on release day and picking it up. - As a little girl, there was something so positive and happy about her songs, even the sad "Vision of Love". Belting out tunes as I jumped around my room, I wanted to be her and sing with such amazing grace and percision. Her songs made me feel very inspired and happy. So, it was odd juxtaposition that just as I began listening to my childhood favorite singer again, she released her new album E=MC^2, and put into stark contrast how different she has become. I mean, I always knew that Mimi/MC was not Mariah (that much was clear from the day she decided to do away with her perm and turn blond). But I had forgotten exactly how much of a cliche she had turned into. I will always admire her for coming so far in her life, getting over terrible depression (remember that TRL episode? Huh?), breaking through as a female artist, and having as many #1 songs as the Beatles did. However, her current state of affairs is just too much to watch, and her songs are just horrible! They basically consist of a steady discoteque beat and her singing about being strong and overcoming her fears...or someone being her baby/ her being their baby, which she already did in the early 90's (and in a far better way!) Anyway, despite being annoyed at her current state of affairs, I'm more annoyed at people who have forgotten Mariah completely and now only see this Mimi personality.

On a side note, I find "Always be My Baby" to be a really awesome song to run to, especially as the weather gets better! Good deal.

Noodle Pudding, Fiore, and Alligator Lounge

So, I have a few things to report on about Brooklyn today, all mainly having to do with food (consistantly #2 on my list of Life Passions, just below an ever changing #1 [lately, it's been split between photography, laughing, sleeping, running, Brooklyn... alright, a lot of different things). The first has to do with italian food in this fair borough, and the second with FREE pizza for every beer you buy (I'm reluctant to tell you the name of this place!).


Last night, after a few great, free rounds of pool at Superfine with my dad and his friends, we ventured over to a little restuarant in Brooklyn Heights called Noodle Pudding . Now, I have been hearing a great deal of buzz surrounding this place from a few very reliable sources, but I have to say, it was really nothing to write home about. Perhaps my palate for italian food is just way pass refined (...I'm trying hard not to brag here), but I do have the experience of living with an italian family in Florence, Italy for 4 month, as well as a passion for cooking italian food that rivals Mario Batali. So, having said this, my experience at Noodle Pudding last night was less than perfect. I ordered the linguini con molluschi e gamberi, believing that the true test of any italian restaurant is homemade pasta in a simple ragu and, in general, it was a fine dish, but here's were the refinement comes in. Wonderful italian food has, I believe, a surprise to it, a twist of some kind, perfection that is unexpected, something added to the sauce or the pasta that wakes up the tastebuds and makes you say "wow, this is amazing". I didn't find this at Noodle Pudding. The pasta was perfectly al dente and the clams were fresh, but the shrimp was a bit overcook and the sauce was... plain. ALSO, my side of broccoli con aglio e olio was just plain bland; I mean, come on, that's at least something a true italian restaurant should get right. Well, even if I don't like it, Marty Markowitz likes this place a lot (we spotted him in the back, enjoying his fettucini and gabbing as he does). Let's give it a 3 out of 5 for effort. If you'd like a recommendation for really wonderful italian restaurant in Brooklyn, I'd suggest Fiore (Picture One, c/o Citysearch), located near the G Metropolitan / L Lorimer stop in Williamsburg. I had the exact same dish there 3 weeks ago and it was fabulous. Not to mention quaint, cozy and has authentically beautiful italian waiters :) 5 of 5!

::room for a deep breath:: wow, that was an intense review. On to lighter ground!

Ever wish that when a place said FREE, they actually mean it? Or if they did, that it was at least something you were interested in? Well, please come on over to Alligator Lounge (Picture Two, c/o nymag.com), where the drinks are cold, the pizza is free and a game of pool is still $1 (I was at a place in the city last friday, and it was $2.50! Who are these people kidding?). Granted, the pizza is not at the standards of my beloved Grimaldi's, but it's tasty, garlicy and, well, free (with the purchase of a beer, but that's implied, isn't it?) Again, it's right off of the L/G Lorimer stop (I really love this area), and they actually had a decent amount of seating room, so you don't have to show up at 5pm for a great table (though I do because I love it). Enjoy!

Wonderful Memory

I love that I still feel the same way about bookstores...

From my old livejournal:

Shakespeare & Co.
[Apr. 23rd, 200403:25 pm]
[mood hyper (latte-mode)]
[music The Beatles: Baby You're a Rich man]

I got lost in a bookstore today, not in the "I don't know where I'm going" kind of things, but in the "Wow, it's been an hour and I'm still in here" things. Shakespeare & Co. will always hold a special place in my heart. I find that when I enter this store, it isn't very likely that I won't find dozens of books that I want to buy. It's almost like they especially stock the store full of books I will want to buy (or, more likely, that college kids like me will). I wandered into the Children's
Section corner of the store today and got lost in Winnie the Pooh, Dr Seuss, Van Allsburg and Shel Silverstein books, as well as books about animals with fuzzy tales (including a scratch-n-sniff sticker for the skunk [eww!]) or books about the misadventures of some kind of animal and his friends. Oh, to be 5 again and have life that simple. From here, it was the screenplay section, photo section, and fiction sections (including a glimpse into the British-imports section [Amanda, this is your area]) with a brief stop off in comedy to read some Calvin & Hobbes, and low and behold, I was late for my next psych experiment. How time flies when you're emersed in words, pictures, poems, and rhetorical devices.

Awesome.

Life is...

very unpredictable.

Today is the day of the week that I always look forward to and fear at the same time. Job application day. Every week for about a month now, I have been taking my one day off a week to look for a better, more interesting (and hopefully higher paying) job. At first, I was all excited and filled with ideas of 'what could I be?' (I still do sometimes, don't get me wrong), but this quickly gets old went after 4 job interviews and 4 weeks, you are still in the same place with the same freelance jobs. SO, in my attempt to fill the time when I have absolutely no new leads for applications, I was cleaning out my NYU email box and stumbled upon my old, long-forgotten livejournal! Wow, freshman/sophomore year right in front of me, all over again. It made me cring, smile, laugh, and generally just realize how overly serious I've become lately. Here it is infront of me, the proof that I wasn't always so neurotic or stressed (or even if I was, I could brush it off as if it were nothing). It talks about new ideas and drinking and dating and generally finding out who I was AND meeting all my now-best-friends for the first time over 4 years ago. Basically, I have a wonderful smile on my face now, remembering that there was a time not too long ago when the world seemed alot more forgiving and wide open (and that, really, it still is).

ps- the pic is my cat Pauly and was my livejournal pic!

Astrology & The NY Post

It's become a habit of mine to check my horoscope on nypost.com everyday, not because I'm infatuated with Rupert Murdock or Page Six, but rather because their lovely astrologist Sally Brompton is nearly 91.5% right in her predictions (at least as they apply to my life and my father's). Who knew something so accurate could come from the gossip and rumor newspaper of the century?

My astrological curiousity comes from a place deep inside myself where I still am a science geek to the core as well as a mystic yogi. Perhaps this is exactly where my love for scifi comes from. Some people may get upset when I compare astrology to scifi, but for me they're very closely related. Both are forms of art based in fact that then stretch into the unknown, only hoping that the things they merely believe in will come to fruition and be proved true. This is exactly where I stand in life, with my feet planted firmly on the ground but with my head in the stars. After all, I am an Aquarius, always wishing to stay completely in control of her own destiny yet not lose the freedom to live a diverse and exotic life (as a mystic geek!)